Damn and double damn.
50
Brother Philip
I ROSE TO my knees and sent five witchlights at once into the rafters, though not close to where the two goblins crouched on a high beam. The warehouse wasn’t entirely empty. Along the near wall was a bank of wooden crates, and along the far wall were barrels stacked two high and two deep. Walsingham sat on a wooden crate in the middle of the floor. Philip, wearing Diccon’s body, stood next to him, one hand on his shoulder. I followed up with a gale-force gust of wind across the floor that pushed the packing crate back a few feet. It detached Philip from Walsingham and bowled him over completely.
Hookey leaped to his feet and fired both his pistols before ducking down again. I found it hard to believe he’d missed, but no one fell.
Corwen hurtled forward and leaped at Walsingham but hit an invisible barrier and was flung off to one side, landing in a heap by the barrels.
“Stay down.” Walsingham flung a crumpled paper in his general direction and the spell exploded, tumbling barrels around and throwing Corwen against the wall. I heard the sickening crunch of bones.
Everything pulled at my senses. I needed to go to Corwen, now! But that would be fatal.
While Walsingham was distracted, I fired my Navy pistol and ducked back behind the crates. I was a good shot. I knew I hadn’t missed. Dammit, Hookey hadn’t missed either, but Walsingham sat there, uninjured. I couldn’t work out what had happened until he waved his good right hand in front of his head as if searching for something.
“Ah, there it is.” He picked my bullet out of the air where it had stuck as if frozen in time. “You might have guessed I would have protection.”
“You didn’t guess the Heart was protected.”
I moved, keeping a bank of packing cases between me and Walsingham. If he aimed something toward the sound of my voice, I was no longer where he expected me to be.
“Consider that my calling card. An invitation. And you accepted. How kind. We have business to settle.”
Blind, he needed no light, but I heard Philip tell Walsingham the building was illuminated as bright as day.
“It doesn’t signify,” Walsingham waved his hand dismissively. “I wondered how long it would take you to find us, Ross Tremayne,” he still used my previous name. “Have you come to see your brother? Say hello to your big sister, Philip.”
Diccon’s body stood and bowed to me, somewhat unsteadily.
“Is that . . . ?” Hookey asked.
“Philip,” I said. “In Diccon’s body.”
Somewhere above me, I heard Diccon howl.
“Sister, you don’t know how much I’ve been looking forward to seeing you again,” Philip said.
The last time I saw him was when I shot and killed him, so I was pretty sure I did know. Philip’s was the last spirit I’d ever wanted to summon, so to see him made flesh again was my worst nightmare. I didn’t know whether it was fear or guilt. I’d shot him to save Corwen and David—before David had come into his Fae powers—but could I have found another way? Had I pulled the trigger because I’d never liked Philip? He’d been a brat as a child, and no better as a man. But he was my brother, and no matter how much I disliked him, he was family. I would have died for him, but when it came down to it, I discovered I would kill for Corwen and David.
I didn’t say anything to give away my new position. If he’d actually looked like Philip, I might have cracked completely, but Diccon’s face was a reminder that Philip was prepared to kill an innocent and steal his body.
Philip pulled a pistol from his belt and drew the doghead back ready to fire.
Corwen, lying still as death, was not out of the game. He produced an illusion of me, and had it step out from behind a crate some ten feet away from where I was hidden. Philip took a shot. Did he have another loaded pistol, or would he have to stop to reload? I had my third pistol in my hand, primed and ready.
“Philip, what’s happening?” Walsingham snapped out.
“I shot an illusion.”
“Come here, boy.”
Philip had never liked being addressed as “boy” even when he was one. I took scant pleasure in the fact that Walsingham would have as much trouble with him as everyone else had. Philip never did anything that wasn’t ultimately for the good of Philip.
A montage of memories flashed past almost faster than I could catch them. Only once had we bonded as siblings, and that was when mother had gone traveling—to give birth to David, though we didn’t know that at the time—and left us in the care of an over-strict governess against whom we had immediately united. Why remember that, now? I had felt affection for him and I think, he for me—briefly.
He was my baby brother, yet I had killed him.
Corwen yipped as if he knew what I was thinking. He knew me well enough by now. He squirmed to hide himself behind the barrels and then changed into a man. Then immediately back to wolf again. He’d be healing broken bones with each change.
In the shadows overhead, the two goblins inched along the rafters. I didn’t know if they had a plan, but it seemed as though Philip had forgotten them, and Walsingham had never seen them. I looked away so as not to draw attention.
There was no way I could win a magical duel against Walsingham without being sneaky. I needed a little time to prepare. I jerked my head toward Walsingham.
Corwen rolled over and stood up, snarling, enough to take attention from me, though wisely he didn’t spring. He dropped down behind the crates again to change.
I stepped out from behind my crates and fired my second pistol, this time at Philip, aiming for his legs. I didn’t want to kill Diccon’s body, just get him out of it. I heard Philip yell and saw him crumple to the ground clutching his thigh. Yes!
At the same time I sent a whirlwind around both Walsingham and Philip, sucking the breathable air away from them. They should be unconscious in little more than a minute.
Damn! Walsingham seemed untouched by the wind. Philip, visibly gasping, crawled toward Walsingham, leaving a smear of blood on the floor. As he got his head close to the crate, he sucked in deep breaths.
Ah, now I understood. Walsingham’s protection spell was centered on the crate he was sitting on. Like I had protected the Heart, Walsingham had bespelled the crate with a bubble of protection.
Damn and double damn!
“My leg. She shot me in the blasted leg.” Philip’s voice shook.
“Stupid boy. I told you to stay close.” Walsingham took a crumpled paper from his pocket and held it out for Philip to take. Philip snatched it and pressed it against the wound on his thigh, his face a mask of agony, but the spell did its job. He flopped back against the side of the crate, his complexion gray with pain, but the blood had stopped welling from the wound. Using the corner of the crate, he hauled himself upright and tested his weight on the leg. It held.
He said something to Walsingham that I didn’t catch. Walsingham nodded. I hoped he wasn’t telling him about the two goblins who were silently advancing overhead in the rafters. The back of my neck prickled. If I had hackles, they’d be rising. I could feel Philip was building a summoning. The ability ran in the family. What or who was he summoning?
No. Please, no.
But it was too late. The specter of my first husband, Will, appeared in the air between us.
Will!
Hello, love. Will’s ghost and I had been together for three years. We didn’t need to speak out loud to each other. What’s going on?
Philip.
Little bastard! Will said with great vehemence.
Before he and I had run off together, Will had been a regular visitor to our house, so he’d known Philip as a boy and had never been fond of him. My mother had never spotted Philip’s sly tricks, but Will had seen everything.
Walsingham took another paper twist out of his pocket an
d passed it to Philip. “Don’t waste the blood, boy.”
Philip looked at it. A cruel smile twisted his mouth. He held up his hand red from his own blood and began to read silently from the twist of paper.
Oh! Oh, no. Will’s ghost began to twist in the air and spin toward Corwen, still in wolf form. I’m not going into that thing. I’m not!
“Philip! In God’s name, what do you think you’re doing?” I screamed as Will slid inexorably toward Corwen, who was still only half-healed.
“Getting rid of your wolf-man and giving you your husband back, only he doesn’t have the skill to change back into a man, so I destroy the only two men you ever loved with one blow. How do you like that?”
“Not one little bit.”
I felt the disturbance in the spirit world. There would be hell to pay for this, possibly literally, or something close to it. The balance had already been damaged, and this new indignity would rip a hole in the fabric of that plane.
Will was screaming now, but Corwen seemed calm. His spirit was still firmly lodged in his own body, and he wasn’t going to give it up to Will or anybody. At the very last minute, he flopped to the ground, changed back to human, and pulled Will’s spirit into himself. Then quick as a flash changed back into a wolf.
Philip scowled at the sudden change but seemed satisfied when everything ended up where he’d expected. “Your wolf-man has gone, Ross. Hello, Will, how do you like four legs instead of two?”
He didn’t get an answer. He didn’t expect one.
I could hear what was going on because I was still attuned to Will. There was a very strange conversation taking place between Will and Corwen, trapped together in one body.
What’s happened?
Shut up, Tremayne, let me think.
Think all you like. God’s ballocks, what is that stench?
That’s what the world smells like to a wolf.
Shit!
And sweat, and blood, and wood, and grass, and the river.
The wolf that was now half-Corwen and half-Will Tremayne stood up, wobbled as if he didn’t know what to do with his legs, and sank to the floor again.
Philip laughed.
What are you doing wolf-man? Will asked.
Convincing Philip that we’re no threat.
We aren’t.
Don’t you believe it.
I’m a wolf.
No, we’re a wolf. Both of us in one body. For now.
For now? Are you going somewhere?
Philip thinks I’ve gone, but he didn’t check. You’re the one who’s going. Ross will put this right, and you can go back to your rest.
Corwen had such faith in me. I hoped I could right the wrong, for both Will and Diccon.
What if I don’t want to?
Then you’ll be as bad as Philip.
Point taken. So what do we do now?
We wait for an opportunity.
51
Walsingham
WALSINGHAM HAD HAD enough of Philip’s games. He rolled another spell toward me and Hookey, remarkably accurate since he was locating us by ear. Pressure knocked me flat. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Hookey down on the ground, struggling to breathe. It was the same spell he’d used on James Mayo on board the Black Hawk. It hadn’t killed Mayo, so it probably wouldn’t kill us—I hoped. I curled around my belly to protect the twins. They’d been turning somersaults, but now they were ominously still.
No no no. Come on, babies, get moving. Stay with me. We can do this.
The air thickened around me where I lay. It felt as though I’d landed in a tub of molasses that was rapidly solidifying. Every movement I tried to make, I had to push against something which pushed me back. I had one more shot left, the second of my small pistols, tucked into my sash. I managed to reach it, but I didn’t dare fire. It would either explode in my hand, or the bullet would simply grind to a halt in midair. I mustn’t waste my last shot.
“Where’s the wolf?” Walsingham asked.
“Over by the wall, immobile,” Philip said.
It took some time for me to turn my head and see what looked like a heap of silver-gray fur. An ear twitched. Slowly, but it twitched, and a low rumble emanated from Will-Corwen’s throat.
Phillip left the shelter of Walsingham’s protective bubble. From my position on the floor I had a good view of his booted feet as he walked toward me. Quality boots, not footwear Diccon would have been able to afford, so he had turned Diccon into a gentleman after all—his body, anyway.
He checked on Hookey and casually kicked him in the ribs. I heard a grunt, reassuring me that Hookey wasn’t dead. Then he took out a pistol, drew back the doghead, and put it to my temple.
“I owe you, sister.” Philip squatted so his face was close to mine. The bullet wound didn’t seem to be troubling him, though his breeches were rent and covered in blood. “Or, should I say, you owe me.” He lowered his voice to barely a whisper. “I see there’s a way you might be able to repay the debt.”
I saw him glance at my belly. I went hot and cold in turn. My babies. What did he intend?
He touched his face. “I can’t stay in here forever. An unformed mind would be much easier to handle and grow into. How would you feel about becoming my mother?”
I heard Corwen growl. He’d realized what Philip meant before I did. He intended to take over my unborn child and live his life again. He didn’t know there were two unborns, and I wasn’t going to tell him.
“You’d trust yourself to me, Philip? Newborn and defenseless? Look what I did to you last time.”
“You’d never harm your own child. You’d always wonder whether there was something of him still in there.”
“Or her. Do you fancy being born a girl?”
I saw a fleeting look of surprise cross Philip’s face. He hadn’t considered that.
“Philip, I need you here.” Walsingham rapped out an order. Surprise turned to annoyance at the peremptory tone. So it wasn’t all sweetness and light between them.
“Better go to your master, Philip.”
He rose, but as he did so, the damaged leg gave way beneath him, and he staggered before steadying himself. He turned and aimed his pistol at Hookey.
I wanted to tell him no, but that would only make him more certain to shoot. He pulled the trigger. There was a thunderous crack and a cry from Hookey. I swiveled my head with difficulty to see that Philip had shot Hookey in the thigh, in the exact same place I’d shot Philip. Hookey was barely able to move, but I saw he’d clamped his hand over the wound to slow the bleeding.
Philip smirked at me, enjoying my distress.
As he crossed back over to Walsingham, his gait was uneven. I wondered whether Diccon’s body was letting him down.
“What did you say to her?” Walsingham asked.
“Greetings of brotherly affection,” Philip said.
“Come, read me the book. We need to take care of what’s outside our doors before we deal with your sister. I thought they’d bring the Fae boy, not an army of goblins. Page twenty-two.”
Philip took a slim notebook from his jacket pocket.
The spell book.
Damnation!
“He said he wanted to take over my baby’s existence,” I shouted to Walsingham. “He said he’d be reborn as my son. Where would that leave you? You’d lose your eyes and the only other person who has the key to your scribblings.”
“Philip?” Walsingham’s head swiveled toward where Philip had been the last time he spoke, though Philip was now several paces away.
“You can’t trust him, Walsingham. I’m his sister, and I could never trust him. He’s always seeking the best opportunity for himself. He’ll only stay with you as long as it suits him.”
A short yip from Will-Corwen, attracted my attention. I saw where his gaze was turned. Floati
ng in the rafters of the building was a faint luminescent glow, Diccon’s sundered spirit, hovering between the two aerial goblins. I blinked to show him I’d taken notice. I needed to get Philip’s spirit out of that body and Diccon’s back into it.
Unable to move, I used all my willpower to summon Philip’s spirit. I didn’t know how secure he was in Diccon, but he couldn’t be as secure as someone who had been born into that body and who had grown up in it.
My head began to ache, but I kept on pulling.
Philip knew full well what was happening, but he was using every ounce of his energy to fight me and had no spare capacity for his body or his speech. He dropped to his knees.
Will-Corwen moved. I heard Corwen say, Leave the wolf to me, Tremayne. You store up some righteous anger and use it, and then the silver wolf dashed across the warehouse floor. He pounced on Philip, but instead of tearing his throat out, which he could so easily do, he bowled him over, grabbed him by the shoulder, and shook him hard.
Philip twisted and kicked out, but Corwen’s grip didn’t falter. If once he let go, then Philip might be able to produce one of those damned spells.
“What’s happening?” Walsingham’s voice rose a couple of tones. “Philip! What’s happening?”
“Damned wolf. Tremayne. Let go!”
He hadn’t realized Corwen was still in charge of the wolf. Will’s determination was shoring up Corwen’s damaged body. Corwen hadn’t had enough time or done enough changes to heal fully.
The goblins dropped down from the rafters and began to beat Philip around the head with their fists.
Philip’s concentration wavered.
I pulled again, and his spirit began to detach from Diccon’s body until his hold became tenuous.
“Philip, what’s happening?” Walsingham’s voice held an edge of panic.
I yanked; Philip’s spirit slithered free. The body he’d been inhabiting collapsed. Corwen and the goblins held onto it but stopped the shaking and hitting.
I let Philip’s spirit go and pulled on Diccon’s, bundling it up and shoving it back into its own body.
Rowankind (3 Book Series) Page 44
